


Sauli's Definitions

by islasands



Series: Lambski [29]
Category: Adam Lambert - Fandom
Genre: Couple bubbles, Love, M/M, Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-22
Updated: 2012-01-22
Packaged: 2017-10-29 22:38:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/324936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/islasands/pseuds/islasands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adam is hyper-active because he is about to take an important step in his career. This is the first time in his life he will not be alone on what he knows, deep down, will be a life-changing journey. What does that mean? What is "being a couple" going to mean?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sauli's Definitions

PART 1

They were sitting up in bed, each busily writing in his notebook. Sauli had read several pages of Lord of the Rings and several pages were enough. He had read the book in Finnish, but now he wanted to read it in English, partly, or mainly, because Adam often offered to read it to him.

Now he was writing his new blog and Adam was writing practice notes for the band. Sauli was eating an apple as he read through his notes and the sound of him biting and chewing was getting on Adam's nerves. 

“Look at us,” he suddenly said. Sauli looked at him.

“We’re a couple,” Adam pulled a face.

“You don’t like it?” Sauli asked. His eyes were so clear, so untroubled, that Adam felt flustered. He was irritated but elated, spoiling for a fight yet pleasantly aroused. He looked at Sauli's mouth. He had never seen lips more clearly defined, or so quick to smile, or so stolidly obstinate in repose. 

“No, I don’t,” he said. Sauli raised his eyebrows but was in no way alarmed. He was accustomed to listening more to Adam’s eyes and hands than to his voice. 

“Couples make couple-bubbles that burst,” Adam said. “I don’t want that.”

“I don’t want that either,” Sauli said. “What shall we do instead?”

Adam stared into space. He frowned. He continued frowning when he looked at Sauli.

“I was going to say,” he went on thoughtfully,  “that we mustn’t fall into the trap of wanting to own each other, you know, owning every damn thing we do, or say or think. But then I realized that would be a lie, because I do. I can’t help it. I want to own you outright.” He stared at Sauli as though Sauli was somehow at fault for him feeling that way. “It doesn’t mean I want to _control_ you, but I do want to own you, just quite naturally own you, the way I own other shit that I don’t share with anyone else.” He tapped his notebook with his pen. "Like my legs," he added, lamely.

“Sounds good to me,” Sauli said in a matter of fact voice. He returned to his writing. “But you _do_ want to control me,” he added, as he began writing something down.

Adam immediately reached over and flicked Sauli’s workbook off the bed. “I do not! That’s not true.”

Sauli looked over the edge of the bed. He looked back at Adam. He grinned. “See?”

PART 2

Sauli was lying on top of Adam. He was exhausted.

“Get off, you great lump of Finnish gold,” Adam said. He too was spent. He pushed Sauli. “Get off.”

Sauli rolled off him. Their hands however, as though objecting to the separation, sought each other, clasped, twined, untwined, pressed, caressed, silently conversing in finger-speak, which obeys no rules of the thinking man’s grammar.

“I like being fucked when you’re angry,” Sauli commented. He reached up his free hand to poke at a pimple on Adam’s neck.

Adam sat up. He put up his hand to feel the pimple. “Me? Angry? I wasn’t the least bit angry. It was you, being provocative, deliberately provocative. You do it all the time.”

Sauli looked up at him, his eyes half-closed. He was content. “I suppose I do,” he said dreamily.

“You most certainly do,” Adam said firmly, prone, as ever, to complacency whenever Sauli agreed with him. “God knows how I’m going to get through the next few months with you at my side.” He lay back down. He looked fondly, with a pretence of patronization and accompanying tutting sounds, at Sauli's brow. It was glistening with tiny drops of sweat. “Provoking me all the time," he went on, "with your “fuck me” eyes and “fuck me” smiles and “fuck me” Finnish asides.” He thought about that for a moment. His face and eyebrows worked with a remembered emotion. He was remembering the last time they quarreled and Sauli had shouted at him in Finnish. He glared at Sauli. “Don’t think I don’t know what you are saying. I know perfectly well.”

Sauli had closed his eyes. He was drifting off.

“What am I saying, my love?” he said, just before sinking into a drift of snow that had suddenly materialized beneath him.  He was back home. He was a boy. His sister was calling him.

Adam's annoyance subsided. In truth, he was anxious about the weeks that lay ahead and he knew it.

He raised Sauli's hand to his lips and kissed at it. “You say that you love me more than life itself. Shit like that. Shit that is guaranteed to get a rise out of me!” Adam lay back down, smiling at his little joke. He didn’t care that Sauli was asleep. He let go of Sauli’s hand and drew up the sheet to cover him. He wondered if he should get up. He wasn’t the least bit tired. He was feeling too heroic, too excited about his work, too overflowing with the feeling that something countless, almost miraculous, was adding up in his life, to give in to sleep.

He realized they had changed sides on the bed and looked over the side of the bed. He reached down to pick up Sauli’s workbook.  He jostled Sauli’s side. “Can I read your workbook?” he said.

Sauli opened his eyes. “What?” he said. He rolled onto his side and put his nose against Adam’s arm. “I don’t mind,” he mumbled.

PART 3

Adam opened Sauli’s workbook and flicked through his notes. It was all boring stuff, all the material he used for his weekly blogs. He was going to put it down when he noticed Sauli had made a list on the last page. He read the list.

 _DEFINITIONS_

 _Happiness: The snow on mountains that never gets walked on._

 _Desire: Speed._

 _Truth: The only thing that doesn’t have a shadow._

 _Peace: Taking the longer way of a river._

 _Purpose: To grow by growing things._

 _Meaning: There isn’t any._

 _Love: His hand in mine._

 _Forever: The water lilies spilling over the sides of one of Tom Bombadil’s wife’s earthenware basins._

Adam closed the workbook and put it next to the bedside lamp. He switched off the lamp. He lay down, blinded briefly by the flash of darkness in the room. And in that flash he made some important decisions.

He decided he would never ever marry Sauli, because marriages can begin and end. They can drown in the sea of societal expectations. They can become staged plays where the parts have already been written. By someone else.

No, he wouldn’t do it. Instead, they would take the longer way of a river. They would sleep beneath quilts of light, sheets of rain. They would forge a way between mountains. They would run down hills like rapids.

And he would be like Tom Bombadil in Lord of the Rings, the enigmatic master of land and rivers and trees, and bring Sauli water lilies. Without ever getting married, he would make Sauli his wife. He smiled at himself for choosing himself, and not Sauli, to be Tom Bombadil. “What was his wife’s name?” he thought.

He turned his back to Sauli, knowing that no matter how deeply asleep he was, Sauli would put his arm around his waist. Sure enough, here it came. He placed his hand over it. He would never let go of it. 

“Goldberry!” his mind announced, just before he fell asleep.


End file.
